The Watchers
by The Creationist
Summary: Post Season7. Buffy and most of the crew are in LA and a man is coming, talking about the revival of the Watcher's Council. Includes characters from Angel and will probably a fairly long story PLEASE REVIEWWWW!!!!
1. Meetings

The darkness was complete. He felt it, heard is drifting silkily all around him, could taste the inky sweetness. The gentle, caressing coldness softly ran its fingers over his skin. Behind his closed eyes it was darker than any night.  
Outside shafts of gentle light filtered down through the leaves of a tree above him. A youngish man wearing a loose-fitting Oriental robe sat upon a rock in his private garden, his eyes closed, his legs crossed in front of him. The floating, disembodied sounds of a freeway drifted over the garden, but he couldn't hear it.  
Inside there was peace. The man's thin lips twitched slightly in a small smile. The darkness was torn from his inner screen and replaced by a blurry picture of himself. He watched as his face smiled at him and his body sharpened into clearer and clearer detail. Soon he could make out individual pores on his skin. He held the picture in his mind for several minutes, an image of himself smiling and seeming to bleed light from his flesh.  
Like a projector flashing between slides, the image winked out and left the man once more in an empty universe of smooth satin shadows and liquid fluid silence. His lips twitched again and his eyelids fluttered slightly. A weak shuddering whisper of fog-ridden breeze wound its way through the garden. The sounds from the freeway increased, and over time died down. The sun continued its slow majestic plunge over the edge of the world, and the stars shimmered into visibility; and still the man sat.  
When he opened his eyes, the light from the stars seemed blinding. He was glad that there was only a small sliver of moon tonight. His legs straightened, and he stood quickly, fluidly; ignoring the discomfort of unfolding himself. As he moved across the garden, breathing deeply the scents of the fauna, his head was pleasantly empty and seemingly distant. He smiled again, adjusting his dark, rimless glasses and glancing down at his watch. It was midnight, to the minute.  
Removing a key attached to a silver chain around his neck, the man unlocked the solid wooden door leading into a dark house. Stopping for a moment to re-lock the door, the man replaced the silver chain about his neck. He moved through it expertly, quickly, not bothering with any lights. He had spent several hours sitting in each room of the house, engraving everything down to the most minute detail into his mind, a slide to be projected onto his inner screen whenever needed. Down a flight of stairs, a dozen steps forward, turn, three steps, a switch on his left. The fluorescent light above snapped on, flooding the room in harsh light. It would be nice to have that light changed, something softer, this one hurt his eyes.  
The walls of the room were lined with bookshelves, and a thin mattress lay in one corner of the room. Aside from a plain wooden dresser the room was empty, the concrete floor making it seem both sterile and primitive. On the cot was a pair of freshly pressed black pants, a finely tailored black sports jacket a black tie and an expensive black shirt. At then end of the mattress were a pair of fine black leather shoes. The man shed his robe and quickly slipped into the clothes, folded the robe back up and placed it in a drawer of the dresser. Opening the top drawer of the plain wooden dresser, he removed twin .38 caliber pistols. The man spent several minutes mechanically checking the weapons, dismantling them and then putting them back together. Satisfied that they were in proper working order and loaded, he slid them into shoulder holsters and resettled his jacket.  
Snapping the light off, the man moved through the empty house and unlocked the front door. Locking it once more behind him he crossed the grass to a black Monte Carlo parked at the curb. Sliding into the driver's seat, the man took another moment to glance at his watch.  
12:15. Time to go to work.  
  
The traffic had long since died down, but LA was anything but asleep. The pulsating music from countless clubs and the burning lights from innumerable signs hummed through the air. People laughed and fought and danced and drank. And some of them sat alone wondering, thinking about all those other people. Buffy Summers was one of those people.  
She wasn't sure why she was here, sitting on the roof of a club, her friends below. She had been with them for a while, dancing, laughing, having a good time. But that never seemed to last, there was always a reason to leave. So she had come up here, to get a breath of fresh air and watch the stars. Her thoughts were free to drift up here, alone, with the comforting sounds of people living below her. And they drifted back to the same place they always did. At first, when it had been fresh in her head, when it had happened, she had thought that there was a chance that it would be the end, that it would mean peace.  
Unfortunately it seemed as though she was never meant to find real peace. The world was a different place now, and even though most people would never know the change, Buffy's last day in Sunnydale had had a profound effect on her life and the lives of hundreds of girls the world over. They had changed the face of the planet that day, two months ago, they had proven that they could prevail, and that they would do it together. Buffy Summers had proven to herself and to her friends that it would end.  
It seemed like she was wrong.  
They had left the gaping hole that was Sunnydale and they had traveled. Everyone seemed to agree that they were in no hurry to make it to any sort of destination; everyone just wanted to rest and to forget. To put it behind them and adjust. Buffy was finding that she was unable to adjust, if the others were having the same problem they hid it well.  
For years and years Buffy had dreamed of living a normal life, like a normal ordinary girl. And she finally had that chance. At first she had reveled in it, sleeping late, not having to risk her life every night fighting pointless routine battles. But she found that she no longer had a purpose, and that a life without purpose was not really a life. She deserved to have anything she wanted, surely she deserved a little happiness, but it seemed she couldn't figure out what would make her happy.  
  
Closure. That was the word she was looking for, she thought. Things had ended with such a crashing resounding finality. And yet it felt to her as though it wasn't really over. Like she still had things left to do. Buffy Anne Summers sighed and stood. Whatever may come for her, whatever may happen, there was nothing she could do to either speed it up or stop it from coming. That was the way of life. Feeling a kind of detached calm that hurt a little in her chest, she went back down to the club to join her friends.  
  
He had only been in this City of Angels for a week and the twisting labyrinth of freeways and alleys was still nearly impossible to navigate. And the masses of cars and people sifting endlessly through the city added immeasurably to his confusion and frustration. It was worse for him now as he wasn't sure of his destination. He also wasn't sure how he would know his destination when he stumbled upon it. There were still so many things he couldn't understand. He had been given a power, of that much he was sure, but it was as though whoever had granted him the gift had neglected to give him the key. It wasn't like in the movies where he was possessed by overwhelming strength or could suddenly throw flames from his fingertips. This was very different. As though some higher power was using him, revealing things to him as they needed him to understand. It was both a frightening and somehow tranquil experience, what was meant to happen would happen when the time was right. Tonight was important. He had spent the past twelve years preparing for what was to come and tonight was the beginning of all of that. Technically speaking he had already set things in motion several months before, but tonight and the following days would determine if his endeavors could possibly succeed. Out of careless instinct, a whim really, he pulled a sharp left and began to drive down a street lined with clubs and bars. The bright lights burned at his eyes beneath the dark glasses, and he had to squint at the road to avoid running over any idiotic drunken fools wandering about. He sighed and shook his head, watching a group of young men and women stumble along the sidewalk, one of them stopping and vomiting violently into the gutter. Sometimes he wondered why he had sacrificed what he had to save these people. Instantly he reminded himself that it was because it was the right thing to do and that besides, the alternatives to his self-transformation were extremely unpleasant. If he hadn't become what he was today, chances were he'd be dead. This was the right choice, ethically and logically. As he drove down the successive streets, keeping his mind open and letting his thoughts drift freely from point to disconnected point, he began to experience the strange pulling sensation that had led him along for the past two months. Allowing the sensation, whatever it was, to guide his mind and conduct his steering, the man reached into the inside pocket of his suit and extracted a small silver phone. "Jenny Calendar," he said into the speaker of the phone, snapping it open and bringing it to his ear. The sound of a phone ringing in England buzzed over the phone and on the third ring a voice answered. "I'm here. I'm assuming this is you, Cain?" He smiled slightly, picturing the young woman on the other end of the line. That she was alive was still a slight shock to him, he could hardly believe it. Even after watching her body appear, flawless, from the ether, or wherever the hell it was she had been. "Who else? Is everything going smoothly over there? Nothing I need to worry about?" "No nothing. I don't know what you've been telling everyone, but its really working." "Only the truth. They listen because it makes sense." His inner screen began to brighten of its own will, replacing his view of the road with a picture of a sun drenched porch in England, Jenny Carpenter sitting across from him, sipping tea. "Did you call for any reason other than to be righteous?" "Of course. I just wanted to let you know that I'm hoping to find them tonight. If things turn out like I hope they do you'll be able to make an announcement to all interested parties that should bring most of them to our side." The image faded, Ms. Calendar smiling at him as the road blurred back into focus. "I'll call you in two hours." The voice on the other end of the line laughed. "Ok then boss. I'll start writing that announcement up." "Thank you Jenny." "Like they say Cain, I owe ya big time." There was a click and the irritating hum of the dial tone. Cain allowed himself one last faint smile as he snapped the phone shut and replaced it in his pocket. Things were falling into place. He pulled his car up to the curb in front of a large club, utterly amazed that the space was open. Getting out of the car, he studied his surroundings. The sidewalks on either side of the street were clogged with people, there were several clubs on this street and long lines to get into most of them. The one he was interested in was apparently the most popular, the people in line were all well-dressed, the kind of beautiful people one could only find in a city such as this. Cain sighed, vanity was such a useless flaw.  
  
He approached the club's bouncer, an exceedingly large man with the physique of an ape and the face of an angry bull. The man was sweating profusely and glared at Cain with small, stupid eyes as he approached. Reaching into his suit, Cain extracted a hundred dollar bill and waved it openly in the face of the bouncer when he was a few feet away. "You a cop?" the bouncer asked, his voice slow and deep. "We don't want no cops here tonight. Kills the crowd." "No, I'm not a cop," Cain replied, careful to keep any trace of contempt from his voice. "I just don't want to wait in line. That's not a problem certainly?" The bouncer eyed him a moment longer and then snatched the bill from his fingers. "Fine, no problem." The large man nodded to a second, smaller man leaning against the wall by the door. This second man stepped forward, his hard eyes keen, intelligent. This was security, someone who had an idea how danger could be assessed and dealt with. Cain saw how the man measured him, his eyes concluding that he could be dangerous. "We won't tolerate trouble here. If something goes wrong, you will be ejected. Forcibly." His tone left no question as to just what he meant by forcibly. "Just be careful to behave yourself." Cain smiled, a false smile of reassurance and calm. "You don't have to worry. I'm just looking to have a night out. I won't cause any trouble." He hoped that this was true, but he couldn't ever be sure. The man nodded and opened the door to the club. Cain slipped the man a fifty dollar bill and stepped through the door. Faith and Robin were dancing, Buffy was somewhere else, probably sulking, and Dawn couldn't spot Willow through the crowd. She was probably somewhere off alone with Kennedy. "I shudder to think why anyone would enjoy something like this." Giles commented, sitting on a barstool beside her, nursing a drink. "You just need some time to adjust Rupert. It's actually quite enjoyable. Eventually." Dawn's fabricated memory included that voice and a few sparse images of the man accompanying it. But the Wesley leaning against the bar was far different from the Wesley she had heard about in Sunnydale. "I'll never find a place like this enjoyable. This bloody music is insufferable," the former watcher slurred, his brown suit distinctly out of place and screaming British Man at the top of it's pinstriped lungs. "I like it. It's fun. You two should find someone and go dancing." Dawn said quietly, not sure they would want her interrupting their drunken bantering. Giles stared at her for a moment and then broke out into helpless laughter. Wesley, however, grinned broadly and jumped from his barstool, swaying slightly. "Come on then you beautiful young lady. To the dance floor!" Giggling, Dawn allowed herself to be swept into the maze of flashing lights and dancing people. They danced for a few moments, but Wesley disappeared shortly, a sick look on his face. Dawn grinned and continued to dance, making her way towards Faith and Robin, wanting to see how they were doing.  
  
Before she got there, she spotted her sister. Buffy was standing in the middle of the dance floor, and across from her was a man who stood out distinctly against the backdrop of people. Dawn stopped dancing and moved towards them, studying the man as she did so. There was something about him, Dawn was quickly certain that she would be able to recognize him in any setting, anywhere. He held himself with supreme confidence, a kind of contained power seeming to seethe through him. It felt like he was moving a million miles and hour standing still. He was wearing expensive clothes, and he looked excellent in them, but they weren't right for his surroundings. He had medium length hair that was swept back in a kind of disarrayed wave, and his eyes were obscured by dark rimless glasses. His face was serious, devoid of emotion and very, very handsome. As she got closer, Dawn began to hear some of their words. His voice was low and smooth, with a kind of higher melody to it that Dawn liked. ".I need to talk to them, all of them. And to you. We have important things to talk about. But I know that you don't trust me." "You're right about that. I have no reason to." Buffy looked slightly confused, but the confidence that Dawn admired so much was still intact. The man reached into his suit and Dawn gasped, catching a glimpse of a gun, but he simply pulled out a scrap of paper. "This is the address of the house where I'm staying. I'll be in the garden. Come before the sun sets tomorrow. Bring whatever you need to feel safe." Before Buffy could reply, or Dawn could reach them, the strange man was gone. "Buffy! Who was that?" Dawn asked her older sister as she rushed up to her. Buffy's eyes were following the stranger through the crowd, he was in no hurry. "I don't know Dawn. Maybe someone important." She opened the scrap of paper and Dawn got a glimpse of the single word written upon it in flowing handwriting. Cain. 


	2. Getting to know you

Anything she needed to feel safe. The way that man's voice was so cold, his face so expressionless, Buffy wished she still had her army of new Slayers with her. But many had left in the months since that scaled down apocalypse in Sunnydale, so she had to be content with bringing Faith along. "Where the heck we goin' B? We were out kinda late last night and my head hurts like crazy. I mean no offense but I'd take Robin and a warm bed over you and this old crappy car any day, know what I'm sayin'?" Buffy smiled sweetly at her friend and didn't reply. "I'm serious Buff. Where are going at eight in the morning?" "I'm not really sure." "Dammit Buffy! Turn the car around!" "I know where we're going. I just don't know why, not exactly. Last night a man came and said he had something important to tell me. Told me to meet him here." She handed faith the scrap of paper with the address on it. The Slayer glanced at the paper and tossed to the ground, looking disgusted. "Did he say anything about waking me up so damned early?" "Nope, that was my idea. I thought it would be fun. Actually I just wanted to get this over with." "You really are nervous aren't you B?" "Yeah I guess I kinda am. You didn't see this guy though." "Well, is there gonna be a fight?"  
  
Buffy smiled again. "Maybe." Faith grinned at her, suddenly wide awake. "If there's a fight, I forgive you. If there isn't, you're buyin' me breakfast." They drove in silence for the rest of the ride, the early morning traffic floating around them. The traffic lessened as the pulled further and further from the heart of the city. The address was a large, old house complete with ornamental fence and metal gate. Pulling up the old rusted Volvo Giles had bought somewhere along the line next to a gleaming black Monte Carlo, Faith let out a low whistle. "If we kill him, I get to keep his car." They got out of the car and approached the gate, the sounds of birds calling to each other loud in their ears. Buffy pushed at the gate, he had said to meet him in the garden. As she suspected, it swung open with a slight creak. The door, however was locked. "Did he give you a key? Cuz I'm kinda itchin' to kick something." Faith punched the air enthusiastically, a self-mocking smile on her face. "I think we'll all get along better if we don't destroy his property Faith." There was a gate around the side of the house, Buffy walked over to it, peeking into windows as she went. "You need to get your priorities straight missy." Faith grinned again and opened up the gate, jumping into the garden with her hands together, thumb and forefinger making a childish gun. "All right, everybody freeze! This is the police." Her words petered out and her hands fell to her sides as she stared. The man calling himself Cain was indeed in the garden as he'd promised. He was wearing a loose flowing black uniform of some sort; Xander would probably shout out instantly that it was some Oriental uniform associated with martial arts. Perspiration glistened on his bare tanned arms and off his brow. At first glance Buffy thought he was somehow floating. But she quickly realized that he was holding himself up, balancing on a small raised stone by one arm. If he had heard Faith's outburst, he gave no sign of it, and they couldn't tell, he was still wearing those dark glasses. "Buffy, how's he doing that?" Faith whispered, her eyes suddenly a bit frightened. "I don't know. But I'm sure there are plenty of explanations. Maybe he's just really, really, really, fit." "Well he's freakin' me out." Faith picked up a stone from one of the flowerbeds gracing the garden and hurled it at him. The pebble struck him a glancing blow in the elbow, and he gave a grunt of pain, setting his other hand down and propelling himself back to his feet. "I'm glad to see you made it. And this would be Faith. It's a pleasure to meet you. Do you like my garden?" he asked, grabbing a towel from a nearby ornamental wooden post. Buffy took a moment to take in her surroundings. They were in a very large garden, and it looked like a perfect mixture of the Chinese gardens you saw in paintings and Martha Stewart's dream backyard. There were several large trees, and a large variety of flowers just beginning to bloom. There was also a small stream, complete with arching bridge and several posts and stones to add to the effect. "Its beautiful. I didn't think you'd be the gardening type," she said, continuing to marvel at the place. Her mother would love this. "Yeah, its great. Hey, how'd you know my name? You some kind of evil mind reader?" Faith had hardly glanced at the marvels around her, but was staring with a mixture of lust and suspicion at the man across from her. He didn't laugh, didn't smile, his face remained blank, the lenses of his shades making him look like some sort of alien. "I've heard an awful lot about all of you. Everything anyone would tell me in fact. You wouldn't believe how many rumors there are about your particularly talented little group. I've been looking for you for months." Buffy looked harder at this man who had just admitted to following them in a cold, detached monotone that was somehow hollowly melodic. He had dark, tanned skin, and the muscles on his arms were pronounced and powerful. His hair was fairly long by current standards, and was slicked down over his skull by sweat. He was quite a handsome man, but the coldness of his demeanor killed any attraction before it could reach her. He was like an impossibly beautiful statue. "So now you found us. What do you want? Cuz I don't like being followed." Faith obviously didn't understand that this man wasn't in any way aggressive. He was here for a reason, he wanted to talk to them, and he had mentioned the night before that it was important. "I have an offer I'd like to make you. Not just you, your entire gang. I'm on a recruiting mission you might say." He tossed the towel away and sat comfortably on a rock. His movements were both fluid and supple, as if every fiber of body, every muscle was dying to explode into motion. Buffy knew the feeling, but she had never seen it expressed so fluidly, so physically, by anyone before. She answered him quickly before Faith could insult him. "Recruitment? I'd suggest explanations if you want to recruit us."  
His lips twitched a little, perhaps a smile. He stood up. "We can talk later, with the rest of your friends. No point in explaining it more than once." He shifted is posture, his legs sliding apart, his muscles tensing. It suddenly seemed as though his clothes, hanging so loosely off his lean frame, were barely able to contain him, as if he could burst through them at any moment. "First I suggest we get to know each other." His arms came up and he was in a defensive stance, a slight smile at the edge of his lips.  
Faith grinned broadly. "I knew we'd get to fight! Buffy, you're still buying me breakfast!" The Slayer lunged forward, a fist whistling through the air towards Cain's head.  
He blocked the blow with his forearm and continued to slide the arm in. Before his fist could make contact with her neck, Faith spun inwards, a booted foot lashing out at the same time an elbow screamed towards his nose. He hooked his own foot around hers and simply stepped back, putting up both arms to knock aside her elbow and throwing her off-balance as her stance unexpectedly widened. She pivoted on her back leg and threw her entire weight into him, slamming her shoulder into his chest. Falling backwards, he again wrapped his foot about hers, pulling her down with him. As she fell, his other foot came up and met solidly with her stomach. She grunted and both of them rolled away, jumping to their feet and fell into crouches.  
Buffy grinned broadly, she hadn't had a good fight in too long and, she realized, she had missed it. She sprang forward, hoping to catch him off guard. He turned as she neared, ducking even lower and lashing a foot out towards her shins. She jumped over it, lunging through the air, a fist extended towards his face. He reversed his kick, planting both feet out behind him and collapsing on the ground. Buffy tried to stop, but she was flying through space and had no control, and her fist was now directed towards Faith's chest. Faith rolled out of the way and the two Slayers were standing together facing Cain.  
All three of them exploded into motion as if on cue. The air was filled with rapid breathing and expulsions of air. The man's hands and legs flashed blindingly, countering the blows from both his opponents. Buffy felt as though she was seeing the same thing at two different speeds. At one level, she was hardly able to follow his movements, but at the same time she saw they were going just in time to block them.  
The deadlock ended abruptly. Cain suddenly seemed to burst into a new level of speed. Buffy felt his fists crunching into her body again and again, and saw, as if in slow motion, Faith staggering backwards from the same sort of blows. None of them hit her with much force, he was demonstrating very obviously just what he was capable of without hurting her. Then she suddenly felt his bare feet on her thigh and got a glimpse of his body directly in front of her own. Another foot stepped on her opposite shoulder, a moment of pressure hardly there long enough to register. When she caught a glimpse of him again he was in the midst of a gravity defying back-flip, and for an instant time seemed to stop, he was floating perfectly in the air. Then things seemed to fall back into place, he finished his flip and landed lightly on his feet.  
"How did you do that?" Faith wheezed, clutching at her stomach, winded. Buffy agreed, it was quite a trick, but nothing demons weren't capable of, let alone Slayers. She still had her suspicions about this strange man.  
"Something I picked up over the past few years." Cain dusted himself off and stepped towards the house. "We'll go and meet your friends now. Give me a few minutes to change." Removing a key from around his neck, he unlocked a door and disappeared into the house. Buffy distinctly heard the sound of the lock clicking shut.  
Faith turned to her, grinning breathlessly. "I'm really starting to like that man. What you think Buff? Is he hot or what?" Something in her eyes was very hungry.  
"I dunno Faith. There's something about him. We've only been in LA, what five, six days? Maybe there's something in the water, but most people I know can't do what he just did."  
"Yeah, he was pretty damn fast. But we coulda taken him, if we'd wanted to." Buffy nodded, but she wasn't too sure.  
He reappeared a few moments later, locking the door again behind him. Buffy wasn't sure why he did that, she had glanced through several windows and the rooms had been almost entirely empty. He was wearing a similar dark suit to the one he had had on last night, with a black tie laced with bits of silver fabric. He motioned towards the gate they had entered through, an "after you" shooing motion. They walked around the house and back to the front of the house.  
"I'll follow the two of you," he said opening the door to his car.  
"Hey! That's such a wicked ride man. Damn sexy. Can I ride with you?" Faith asked, smiling coyly at him.  
He shook his head slightly, abruptly, "No," and disappeared behind the wheel of his car.  
Swearing, Faith swung the passenger side door of the Volvo open and sat down, slamming the seat shut.  
"Still like him?" Buffy couldn't resist, smiling sweetly and settling behind the wheel.  
"Shut up Buffy." 


	3. An offer

When they had arrived in Los Angeles, Buffy and the gang had rented several rooms in a cheap shack of a hotel near the city center. Willow had suggested that they move in with Angel at their hotel slash detective agency, but Buffy didn't feel that she would be comfortable that close to Angel. Giles had contacted Wesley as quickly as possible, wanting to catch up on the activities in the city and keeping his friend up to date on the events leading up to the destruction of Sunnydale California. Again, Buffy had asked her once and former Watcher not to tell Angel that they were in town.  
She wasn't entirely sure what motivated her to avoid the vampire. A part of her yearned to see him, to feel the comfort his presence lent her. But another side, a more rational side, knew that it would only create tension. And if it happened that they didn't stay in LA, it was better that he never know she was there to begin with. To that end, she had avoided any activities that would bring her to his attention, namely slaying.  
The clerk at the front desk of the motel, a greasy man reading a magazine behind a metal grate, leered at the two slayers and their companion as they made their way past the foyer up the stairs. They're rooms were on the second floor of the squat building, the halls stinking horribly, the pain rotting. Using one of the hole-ridden plastic cards that served for keys in these places, Buffy opened the door to her room and led Cain inside. Faith disappeared into the room she shared with Robin; she would tell the others to meet them in Buffy's room.  
"You mind telling me who you are? I mean aside from the name?" Buffy threw her keys on the small round table in the center of the room and turned to face the strange man who seemed to take possession of the room as soon as he stepped into it, tearing down invisible walls and consuming the air with his animal presence.  
"The name's really all you need to know for the moment." His lips twitched slightly, a movement that she was beginning to realize was the equivalent of a grin in almost anyone else. "Sorry if I sound cloak and dagger. I'm really not this arrogant. I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do in a few minutes, and I'm not exactly good with words. Rupert can tell you plenty about me if you care to ask him."  
"You know Giles?"  
He nodded and took off his sports coat, sliding onto the blue couch that took up one wall of the room. He noticed her staring at his chest and glanced down, seeming to see for the first time the guns in twin shoulder holsters. "Oh, I should probably put those away shouldn't I? People get nervous around guns."  
"Especially when they're being carried by strange men."  
He removed the weapons and tucked them into his jacket. "I was told that you wouldn't like this particular approach. Sorry. I'll try and be a bit more friendly."  
"Told? What do you mean told?"  
"Like I said earlier, I've spent quite a bit of time trying to find out everything I could about you. The people I spoke to all agreed you'd think I was either a moron or evil doing it this way. But I thought it would be fun."  
"Who'd you talk to?" She opened up the small fridge and pulled out a coke, glancing at him to see if he wanted anything. He shook his head and she sat down on the opposite side of the couch, cracking open the can.  
"Members of the Watcher's Council mostly. That's how Rupert and Wesley know me. I associated closely with the Watcher's Council before they got blown up." One hand moved up and adjusted the dark glasses on his face and she could feel the intensity of his eyes upon her, invisible behind the black glass. "You're quite famous you know. You and everyone in your particularly talented little group. The whole world knows about you, the world we live in anyway. I feel rather like a teenager at a pop concert, meeting you all." His lips twitched again, a slight raising of his eyebrows making it clear that he was being sarcastic.  
"You certainly don't show it. You're very stone-faced. Or stony- faced. Stoned-faced maybe? Never mind," she said, smiling slightly. It was amazing how quickly his demeanor had changed to an almost normal state, while still retaining the catlike intensity and icy detachment that made him so utterly inhuman. She felt like he was simply acting, each word designed to put her at ease. Yet even knowing this she found that it was working.  
"Years of practice. Self control and concentration. I spent five years in Tibet, studying with Buddhist monks. That's also where I picked up most of my fighting skills."  
She raised her eyebrows. "You're a Buddhist then?" she asked, taking a sip of her coke.  
"Not in the religious sense no. The whole self enlightenment thing seems rather strange to me. Most religions do, Buddhism less than most. But they're ideas about tapping inner strength and mind over matter and such are quite intriguing. Whether or not there is Nirvana or whatever it's called, I learned a lot from them."  
"I've never really seen a point to religion. Or any of the organized ones anyway. The weird thing is, I know there's a heaven."  
"Really? Oh, you mean when you died."  
"Which time?" She laughed, a little bit bitterly. "But yeah, when I died." She wasn't entirely sure why she was discussing her spiritual views with someone she'd know for perhaps two hours.  
"That's a whole lot more reassurance than most people have. Myself I don't know what happens when we die. You should look up some of the Buddhist meditating techniques though, they're really very good. Improves focus and all of that."  
"I'll think about it. My life's crazy enough without any weird trances."  
"Exactly. Take a few minutes and just open up every day, and things won't be so hectic." He frowned slightly and fell silent.  
They sat for about three more minutes, the irritating whir of the ceiling fan echoing deafeningly in the tiny room.  
"Buffy, if you don't have a bloody good reason for having Faith wake me up, I will be forced to hurt you. My head hurts horribly. Do you have any idea how-." Giles stepped into the room, holding his head and stopped, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he caught sight of Cain. "Erik? What that bloody hell are you doing here? I thought you were dead. You weren't with the Council when it.?" he trailed off, sitting in one of the rickety chairs surrounding the table, his eyes never leaving Cain's face.  
Wesley stepped in a few moments later, and his reaction was much more violent. Upon laying eyes on the man in the room, he started wildly, nearly falling, grabbing the door frame for support. "You're alive?" he whispered, his face pale. "Or did I just have much too much to drink last night?"  
"I'm alive Wesley, very much so. I wasn't even in Europe when the bomb went off. Please sit down. I have some things to tell everyone and it'll be much easier if you aren't blocking the doorway."  
Looking as though he was seeing a ghost, his eyes teary, Wesley went into the small bathroom of the room and gulped water from the faucet before taking a seat next to Giles.  
The rest of the group filtered in over the next few minutes. Nearly all of the potentials had left and the Scoobies were once again a small, select group. Xander and Andrew, now close friends brought together by a person they both cared for, seemed to make all sorts of guesses about Cain the second they saw him, remarking that he was probably some sort of government agent or assassin. Kennedy and Willow hardly seemed to notice him, giggling quietly and whispering in each other's ears, offering only a slight smile and a nod to the stranger. When they sat down though, Buffy noticed Willow throwing several, unreadable glances in Cain's direction, looks he presumably returned, though it was never possible to be sure where his gaze was directed. Dawn flounced in with Faith, bringing up the rear, looking happy and fascinated with the handsome, mysterious stranger sitting across from her.  
"Good morning everyone. It's wonderful to finally meet you all. I've been trying to get this conversation for several months. My name's Cain. The reason I'm here is because I have an offer to make you. All of you. I'd like you all to join the new Watcher's Council."  
His words were greeted by silence as everyone stared. 


	4. Explanations

"Uh, I have something to say. Are you completely utterly incurably CRAZY!?" Xander shouted at him, his single eye slightly wild.  
"I agree," Andrew commented, his eyes wide. "Although I've never really had anything to do with you Watchers, I've heard all sorts of things about you. And you guys don't sound too nice."  
"As I'm sure you've noticed Erik, none of us are thrilled by the idea of the Watcher's Council coming back. You'll recall we either quit, or were fired, quite some time ago," Giles agreed, removing his glasses and wiping them idly.  
"That was the old Council. A bunch of snobbish old men in pinstriped suits trying to hold onto something they'd lost a long time ago." Cain glanced over at Giles and Wesley, who was still staring silently. "No offense intended of course. But the fact is the last Council was obsolete."  
"You're preaching to the choir who wrote all the music pal. But how's your new and hopefully improved version going to be any better?" Xander asked, his voice sarcastic, his eye hostile.  
"To put it simply, instead of just trying to regulate the Slayer, which is now impossible due to Willow's little spell-."  
"How do you know about that?" Willow interrupted, looking slightly alarmed.  
"As I've said several times, I know everything there is to know about all of you. Anyway, instead of trying to watch over the Slayers, the new Council will be designed to assist the Slayers. The new Council will be responsible for raising an army, and keeping everyone's movements in concert, because the end is coming."  
"So does that mean we get to call that shots?" Kennedy asked, sounding defiant.  
"You? Never. Buffy and Faith would be making most of the decisions. The decisions that were pertinent anyway. In the past, the battle has been all about small groups fighting, about guerrilla tactics. We're approaching a time when the battle will become an actual war, a war for the planet that will be fought everywhere."  
"I always loved these speeches. They make me feel all warm and smart inside," Xander said, speaking to no one in particular.  
"So, what? You're going to raise an army and we'll fight it out with the demons? Why did you come here?" Faith was lounging in an armchair, still looking a little pissed from before.  
"For two reasons. LA is a major hotbed of demonic activity, and its going to be our base of operations once the war's begun. Second, I came here looking for you. A recruitment mission. In strictly military terms, you're all valuable assets and would be indispensable in the coming war."  
"Why don't you spell out for us exactly what's going to be happening here over the next few months then Cain." Buffy was interested in what he was saying, and she felt that the others were too, despite their hostility.  
  
"I'll start by filling you in on the Council's development so far. I have everyone who associated with the former Watcher's Council working with me. I'm also in touch with every coven and mystic and cult in Europe. Most of them are willing to help us. But the most important one at the moment is the Initiative." He stopped speaking, watching them expectantly, awaiting the inevitable reaction.  
Nearly everyone exploded, Buffy included. "I thought the government disbanded them after Adam." she trailed off as everyone else quieted down.  
  
"They were. But I've spoken extensively with several of the commanding officers and they've been working on reassembling their team, with sizable additions, for the past two months. Are there any questions so far? Too bad. On to positions and such. I have Watchers working with nearly every new Slayer in the world, you have know idea how much work that was. Many of them have extensive combat training, and all of them have sufficient teaching ability to help the Slayers along. All in all there are roughly one hundred and fifty of them, the world over. That means they're spread pretty thin. Back in Europe and Asia I have about a dozen teams looking to unearth any artifacts or books that'll help us. Aside from that, I'm working on assembling a small team of Witches, and then there's the Initiative."  
As he spoke, his image seemed to change. He transformed from a strange man with inhuman abilities to a powerful leader of men, someone who had worked long and hard to try and give the world a fighting chance against that darkness that was coming.  
"So what do you want us, them to do?" Dawn asked, looking like she was holding back something that was trying it's very best to burst out of her. After a moment she added, "can I help?"  
Cain laughed and nodded, his face hardening again in an instant. "I have something for all of you to do, and I can only pray that you'll accept, because every last one of you is immeasurably important to the plans I have begun to lay. However, I would much prefer to talk to you individually. So if it's all right, I'll be approaching you with the individual offers over the next few days."  
Xander snorted. "If you try and get us alone and then kill us, you'll be sorry mister. I don't know what I'll do about it, but Buffy will teach you a lesson, she'll print it on your ass with a boot."  
"Xander!" Buffy exclaimed, feeling her face redden slightly.  
" I don't plan on trying any tricks Xander. I'd have to be crazy to try." His lips twitched and Buffy thought she caught a hint of sarcasm in her voice. But she may have been imagining it." He looked around, each person in the room feeling the burning heat of his stare drill into their own. "So its all clear? Good. I'll be talking to you. And Wesely, try not to look so frightened, I don't plan on hurting you. Incidently, it would be best if you didn't mention me to Angel yet, I believe Buffy wants to bide her time before seeing her lover again. And besides, I want ot have a talk with vampire with a soul myself." With that, he turned and whisked effortlessly through the door, his movements sure and fluid. The room remained silent for several seconds. Xander drew in a breath, making ready with some sort of comment, but a stare from Faith and a glare from Giles silenced him. After several minutes, everyone got up, as if on cue and filed out of the room, leaving Buffy alone with her thoughts. 


End file.
